


This is the Day

by shinobi93



Category: Fresh Meat (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Language, F/F, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinobi93/pseuds/shinobi93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The SU President election was an important day for Oregon for a number of reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is the Day

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching episodes of Fresh Meat and realised that I really wanted to write fic for these two. Their relationship in the last episode of series 3 is fascinating and I couldn't resist writing something to fit with that closing image of them asleep together.
> 
> Warnings for alcohol drinking and drugs references in keeping with the series, plus non-specific mentions of the 'homophobic rant' from the episode.

_"This is the day your life will surely change,  
This is the day when things fall into place."_

-

 

The day was always going to be important.

The only people who gave a shit about the SU president elections may have been the candidates and the one person on the student paper tasked with covering them, but Oregon didn’t care. She knew she should win because she did care. She wasn’t there to tag along with a political party for popularity or to launch a political career - or to one up a friend - but because she wanted to make a difference. Every time she tried to be somebody, it didn’t work out, but this time she was determined. And that’s why she was so pissed off at Vod for trying to sabotage that.

 

 

Vod was always doing things that infuriated her, from shagging incredibly hot guys to being offended every time she found out something about Oregon that she didn’t already know, putting on a betrayed look that was totally unwarranted in Oregon’s mind. Best friends were meant to be like that. The number of times Oregon had told herself that jealousy was a natural part of friendship, because they shouldn’t be ignoring you for somebody else, or maybe it was envy based around who your friend was fucking (though what her excuse was when Vod was shagging a girl, she didn’t know, but returned to the friendly jealousy argument and went on the hunt for more alcohol). And then finally she’d lashed out at Vod last night. For the election, for always upstaging her or forgetting her, for treating her like a sidekick under the handy title of ‘wingman’. There had been hurt on Vod’s face, but Oregon had felt her own share of hurt and quickly pushed it aside. There was no time for sympathy.

No time but that didn’t stop her from crying alone in her room later, taking down the photos of them traveling that she’d left up despite Javier, because that was their trip. She’d pulled down her election posters because it was pointless now that everyone loved Vod. They all worshipped the ground her boots touched as she talked about fucking chips every second just to get at Oregon. It wasn’t even the right thing to think was fantastic about Vod, if Oregon was going to be honest. Vod wanted crowds to like her too much for them to see her as anything other than totally cool and out of everyone’s league. Oregon knew differently. Her best friend was cool, so fucking cool, but also drank ridiculously sugary tea and would read out books and texts and Twitter to Oregon when they were driving places. Vod brought them all things when they were ill, offered alcohol whenever anyone needed it, and when it was the small hours of the morning and she was totally off her face, had a tendency to tell Oregon she was cute before passing out.

Oregon didn’t want to be fighting with Vod, again.

 

 

Oregon started the day with three cups of coffee and a bowl of cereal. Not quite the breakfast of champions, but she needed something. She left for the final hustings and voting before Vod to ensure they had no chance of going together. No fraternising with the enemy. She had no clue what was going on with the rest of the house, with everyone else arguing too and JP selling the place, but right now she didn’t give a shit. Today she wanted to win, but if her best friend - maybe her ex-best friend - wanted to get in the way, then Oregon didn’t know what to do. As she walked, she tried to gather some fighting spirit, but she didn’t know how to beat someone with the popular voice on her side, someone who was so charismatic when faced with an audience who didn’t care about what she was actually saying most of the time.

Once there, she redid her makeup in the SU toilets even though it was perfectly fine. Maybe, she thought, when she left the toilets she’d discover that everybody but Vod had turned up, perhaps Vod had overslept or gone off on a bender instead of bothering to grace the elections with her presence. Back outside, the other candidates were waiting, and there was Vod, eye-catching as always. This was it.

They all milled around for ages, hoping for a few more vaguely-politically-inclined people to turn up, or at least more of the candidates’ friends who they’d managed to bully into voting for them. It was less of a crowd and more of a shit party, thought Oregon as they took to the stage, and for a moment she went to whisper the comment to Vod, before remembering that she was too angry at her for that. Instead, nerves make her wonder why Vod was apparently wearing a waistcoat without a shirt underneath. It looked good. The speeches went as expected, up until Vod went last in what seemed like some hopeful attempt to make everyone have chosen a different candidate before she spoke. Oregon had listed her numerous reasons why she should be president, highlighting what she thought were the key issues facing the union, but nobody seemed to care. A couple of guys cheered the Labour candidate, but Oregon had a feeling they were his friends. It was even more mundane than she’d seen people mock student politics for being.

Then Vod spoke. Her first new policy was crazy. Burning books? Oregon blinked. Even Vod must be aware that made no sense, but still they cheered, like they had at the previous debate whenever chips had been mentioned.

‘I’ll be banging CCTV into every dorm-’

Oregon turned her head sharply. What the fuck? She started to wonder if Vod was drunk or high or something. She couldn’t leave it any longer. As the tiny crowd cheered again, she stepped across the stage to Vod.

‘What are you doing?’ Vod stuck her hand over the microphone.

‘I’m trying to get me not elected so you can get elected, dickhead.’

‘Oh.’ Oregon was taken aback and trying to remember that she was standing on a stage near a microphone. ‘Well...that...um, thanks…’

And then Vod needed to stop them liking her, and Oregon knew the awful answer. She also knew that Vod wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t go on a homophobic tirade entirely to help her friend. It would be a death wish and it would be outright weird, even though the assembled audience are unlikely to know the actual details of Vod’s sex life. Oregon stepped back to her place on the stage and watched Vod continue to list ridiculous policies. Still, they cheered. Oregon couldn’t stop watching. She didn’t even think to get annoyed about the state of student politics that everyone could still be cheering. Instead, she waited to see what Vod would do.

‘My last policy-’

Oregon held her breath. She heard the words and saw the awful set of facial expressions as Vod tried to convincingly spill out a homophobic rant. The room had gone quiet. Finally the cheering had stopped. Oregon looked on in horror mixed with something else, something that made her want to run over and hug Vod. Gratitude, awe, disbelief. Guilt too, as she watched Vod looking down at the lectern, not even wanting to face the crowd. Finally, they had a reaction again, booing and throwing paper they seemed to have summoned from nowhere. Vod walked over and stood beside her. Oregon had to say something.

‘I can’t believe you did that for me.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s a pretty weird act of friendship.’ Vod’s voice was breaking. Oregon nodded, not sure what to do. It was’t really a situation she had any frame of reference for. Vod was back on her side, asking about being the SU Ents manager. She felt weird, like there was something she wanted to do but she wasn’t sure what. Like something important had happened. Something had changed.

 

 

The departing president ended this final hustings and they all left the stage to wait for the final votes and the counting. Low level booing continued as they did so. Oregon wanted to stay by Vod’s side, perhaps apologise for nothing just because she felt like she should do something. She didn’t want other people trying to talk to Vod, and especially not when they were just going to attack her for views that she didn’t actually hold. However, immediately a couple of people started to talk to Vod, and another to Oregon, a wannabe hack with a student blog who wanted to know her views on the election. Oregon kept turning her head, trying to watch Vod, as the blogger talked on and on about badly run campaigns. She thought she could hear anger. More and more people were coming over to talk to Vod. 

Finally, Oregon managed to break away from the blogger, just in time to see Vod write down a number of a scrap of paper and hand it to a girl who looked self-satisfied as she walked away. Oregon felt a rush of jealousy. Surely not? Homophobic ranting shouldn’t get anyone a date with a hot girl, she thought angrily.

‘Alright?’ she asked Vod as she drew up beside her.

‘Yeah,’ Vod replied, and then in answer to Oregon’s look. ‘She’s going to show me the error of my beliefs, y’know.’

‘Surely she shouldn’t-’ started Oregon, but it was too quick, too annoyed-sounding. Vod looked at her as if trying to work out something.

‘Jealous?’

‘What? Me? No?’ Oregon’s voice was a pitch higher than usual. ‘Why would I be jealous? Of either of you? Of anyone?’

‘That’s a lot of questions.’

Before Oregon had to say any more, the student blogger had appeared, trying to pull Vod over to talk. Vod looked at Oregon. Oregon nodded.

‘Go ruin your campaign some more,’ she said quietly. Whilst Vod explained how she had no knowledge of how to run a student union so would be great at it, Oregon wondered if she was jealous and if so, was it just because she didn’t want anybody stealing her best friend from her, or was it something else. It wasn’t as if Vod needed to give Oregon her number; funnily enough, Oregon already had it, along with her Facebook and the university email address that Vod rarely checked but Oregon still forwarded useful emails to. It doesn’t matter, she told herself, because Vod wouldn’t even kiss you, not even as a friend, so she’s not interested. A voice in her head said, but you didn’t think you were interested either, but she tried to ignore it.

Oregon wasn’t sure how long she stood around thinking for, but when she looked around again, Vod was gone. The rest of the house were appearing though, clearly having just voted. Oregon saw Candice and Howard and was compelled to offer some friendly advice. Friendly advice not at all motivated by her own current confusion. Her ‘don’t shit where you eat’ speech was ruined by Candice’s admission that they were already going out, but Oregon spotted Vod appearing with a drink in hand, and suddenly she was less interested in the relationship issues of the house. Vod looked fed up, not as bad as when she was on the stage, but as she approached a guy yelled ‘homophobe’ at her. Oregon watched her closely, looked at the steely gaze trying not to care.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked Vod directly, but Vod looked around to the rest of the group and talked to them all, telling the story of the hot girl she’d given her number to. Oregon grinned as if it was news and like she was a good friend enjoying a story. Like a good wingman. She turned to see how everyone else was doing, but when she looked back, Vod was watching her, as if searching for something. Oregon smiled tentatively.

 

 

The results were announced and Oregon barely had time to register that she’d won before Vod was hugging her from behind, and then JP was grabbing her arm. Everything went quickly: cheering, the voting breakdown explained whilst everyone cheered over it, people asking her what she thought about winning, and being told to come and see her new office before she started celebrating. Oregon had turned to head to tell Vod to come too, but Vod was already there beside her, like an attack dog, still attacking when they found out the truth about the union, trying to cheer up Oregon by forming her own plan for helping out. Oregon felt that she was in hopelessly over her head, but there was Vod, pulling her arm and suggesting alcohol. That was no unusual occurrence, but Oregon felt like she wanted it to be. She wanted it to be different. Right then, she really wanted to tell Vod that she had been jealous, though she wasn’t even certain of it herself. Instead, she just agreed. Alcohol was the answer.

 

 

Back at the house, they started doing tequila shots, because Vod said there was no point starting soft. In between shots they planned what they would do, action points for the union scrawled on the back of Oregon’s speech and dramatic hand gestures at each other. Slowly, the others disappeared. Josie and Kingsley seemed to be continuing their crisis in some way, but Oregon quickly stopped caring. She thought she noticed them separately go up to bed, but she wasn’t certain. Vod was right there, their legs touching, pouring more shots and spilling just as much on herself as she did so. JP cleaned the room around them, getting them to eventually move from the table so he could clean that. They stumbled over to the sofa and fell onto it in a heap, almost dropping the ever-decreasing bottle of tequila.

‘JP, booze,’ called out Vod, with Oregon murmuring her agreement with her face near Vod’s shoulder. He complied, possibly out of pity or just the drugs, and brought them over a bottle of some strange liqueur left over from the party. It was some point after the tequila was finished and they’d swapped to the liqueur (Oregon’s memory was fuzzy) that JP left to clean the bathroom. Their conversation had long since left the union, with an action plan lying on the now spotless table, and was hovering between bullshit and something resembling an apology. They sat leaning into each other, passing the bottle back and forth.

‘I know I was a twat.’

Oregon shook her head dramatically at Vod, but Vod nodded.

‘I was. I was a twat to you. Mates don’t do that, and-’ She trailed off.

‘You just made me so annoyed,’ Oregon admitted, before pausing to take a drink of the liqueur straight from the now-sticky bottle. ‘I wanted to do something and you had to upstage me and you didn’t even care.’

Vod looked down for a moment, then took the bottle and drank. ‘You don’t even know what you care about sometimes,’ she said, but it wasn’t harsh. ‘You’re too naïve.’

If she wasn’t completed pissed, Oregon would have never been able to get out the next sentence. Regardless, she looked away, gazing at the tidy coffee table now inhabited by an empty tequila bottle.

‘Too naïve, too straight, what else makes me not good enough?’

‘For what?’ Vod asked. Oregon still doesn’t look back at her.

‘You.’

In the silence, Oregon took the bottle back from Vod and had as long a drink as is possible with the sickly sweet alcohol. She wished there was still tequila left.

‘Like-’ Vod trailed off. Her voice sounded like it had on the stage, far more uncertain than her usual bravado.

‘Maybe,’ Oregon admitted. She wasn’t sure what else to say. ‘That lesbian who gave you her number-’

‘You were jealous!’

Finally, Oregon turned back to face Vod, who was grinning at that revelation.

‘Maybe. Probably. I-’

‘We can work out those maybes, you know.’

Oregon was frozen. She watched as Vod took another drink and stuck the bottle on the coffee table.

‘We ca-...oh.’ Vod was leaning in and Oregon realised what was happening. She felt very drunk and very excited at the same time, but then they were kissing, cautiously at first as if Vod didn’t want to panic her, but then Oregon grabbed onto that waistcoat without a shirt underneath and pulled her closer, and Vod responded in kind.

‘Fuck,’ muttered Oregon. Vod laughed and moved until she was straddling her, reaching out for the liqueur bottle as she did so. She took a large gulp and passed it to Oregon.

‘You’re still naïve,’ Vod taunted with a playful smirk, ‘but less straight, perhaps.’

Oregon chucked the empty bottle on the floor.

‘Oh, I’d say so.’

 

 

The important day had been over for hours and hours and hours when Oregon opened her eyes. She couldn’t feel her left arm, but the meaning behind that was pretty apparent when she also couldn’t see much else but Vod’s hair and forehead. Noises from the floorboards upstairs told her that at least some of the house’s other inhabitants were awake, but that didn’t make her move. For one, she knew that doing so would make her head start thumping like a heavy bassline, and more importantly, she was fine where she was, remembering the wonderful haze of the night before (and the early morning too) and wondering why Vod was clutching onto the empty tequila bottle like a teddy bear. There was no need to move, anyway. They were fully clothed, having drunkenly collapsed before any proper nakedness could occur, and even if somebody interpreted it (rightfully) as something more than friends passing out together, she didn’t see the need for hiding it. Oregon had no intention of stopping what they’d so drunkenly started unless Vod didn’t want to continue (and from what she could remember of the night before, she didn’t think that would be true), so there was little point in being secretive, not when everyone was so caught up in their own drama that they probably wouldn’t catch on for ages anyway.

Oregon shut her eyes and hoped for a little longer before the hangover took over. It would be worth it.


End file.
